


Little Bee

by 221bPhan



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - fandom
Genre: (jk he's a huge ;) ), DDLG, Daddy John, Daddy Kink, Hurt/Comfort, John's a big, Kinky, M/M, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock is a Brat, Sherlock's Heart, Sherlock's a little, Sugar Daddy John, Top John, ddlb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 07:53:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10680972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221bPhan/pseuds/221bPhan
Summary: Sherlock's tantrums finally get out of hand, and John snaps at Sherlock, but imminently after, he wonders... Why thebloody hellis he crying?





	1. Chapter 1

It was another day in Baker Street. The two boys were on the couch, John icing Sherlock's back as Sherlock whined on about how it was too cold and how John was being idiotic. John huffed. "Jesus, 'Lock. It's gonna be alright. He broke your rib, naturally where it broke it's gonna hurt, just let me help," He mumbled, and Sherlock made an unintelligible grumble. "Excuse me?" John asked in a commanding tone, and Sherlock huffed. "I'm fine without your stupid icepack, John. I could manage completely fine without you." 

John stopped, and he chuckled, shaking his head. "Ungrateful bastard," He mumbled, and he stopped icing it, sitting in his chair with a crime novel, waiting for the whining and wailing for John to get back over there to start.

The detective did just that in around thirty seconds. "John!" He cried, groaning. "Get back over here, it hurtssss~" He whimpered. John chuckled. "And why should I? I thought Mr. Big-Grown-Up-Detective didn't need an ice pack for a broken bone?" His tone was cold and harsh, and when he didn't hear a reply, he looked over to see Sherlock sobbing quietly into his hands. John rushed over, sitting behind him, icing his back, looking at him. "Hey, Sherlock," He said softly. He was at a loss. He'd never seen the detective cry before - he whined and complained constantly, but crying just was never a thing - until now. He looked at him. "Does something else hurt, 'Lock? Do we need to take you back to the hospital, get some stronger painkillers?"

The detective didn't say anything, just whimpering to himself as he forced the tears to stop. He looked up at John. "You just pushed a button," He mumbled, voice almost a tone higher, and his eyes screamed 'Small, Confused, What's Happening!' as his bottom lip quivered. John gently picked up the lanky man, huffing as he carried him to his bedroom, laying him down on his belly, putting the ice pack on his back and turning on the lights, getting next to him. "Tell me what's up, please?" He asked softly, and Sherlock sighed softly. "Laptop," He mumbled, and John went out of the room to comply to the simple request.

When he came back, he handed the laptop over, and Sherlock started typing. He typed for quite a while, John waiting patiently by his side. When he was done, he handed it over. He read the title, getting confused. " _CG/L_ " The title read, and while he went on, Sherlock almost seemed nervous, twiddling his thumbs. When John was finished, his mouth was agape. "Sherlock-" He started, turning around...

And the man was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

John read the passage around fifteen times, still not believing that _his_ Sherlock Holmes, the one who _treated him like shit_ , was now apparently in need of being taken care of. He sighed, looking up more on the subject. He was unknowing to how much time had really passed as he read comment after comment, site after site, full of littles complaining about abusive, non-caring 'daddies' and 'mommies' while others simply advertised themselves like they were a useless piece of meat, in need of someone to take care of them. Honestly, John was heartbroken for the detective. He closed it, and checked his watch - _shit, three hours?!_ \- and he went into the living room to see Sherlock sitting silently on his chair. John went in front of him, leaning down. "Are you... Are you in littlespace, love?" He asked, and he was given a nod. "I'll talk to you when you're... Uhm, different then. Are you tired?" He asked, and he was answered with a nod.

With John's help, Sherlock went into his bedroom and John softly handed him the 'stuffie' that was hidden in his pants drawer. He was still mildly uncomfortable with the situation, but he showed no sign of it, knowing that even in this state, Sherlock was still Sherlock. He assured him that he was safe, softly brushing through his curls. The man below started to relax, cuddling with the stuffed animal with the amount of affection you would see a puppy give its owner. He quirked up a small smile. "That's right, go to bed, 'Locket," He mumbled softly. His tone was soft, just a stroke of sound in the air, silently echoing into the atmosphere.

Soon enough, Sherlock was put to bed, and John went upstairs, laying down in his own. He closed his eyes, but it took a true two hours before he was asleep, hugging himself for warmth. When he woke up, though, he was met with a new warmth, and he bit his lip to stop from chuckling as the detective laid next to him, stuffie hugged to his chest, eyelashes fluttered closed. John gave him a quick eskimo kiss before he closed his eyes again, waiting for the other to awake. It took quite a while, but he heard the groggy man groan next to him, and he chuckled. "Hey," John mumbled with a laugh. Sherlock's face was bright red. "H-Hello," He stuttered. Still in littlespace, then. John started the day by letting Sherlock get dressed, making them both breakfast. He set the table, something they usually never got to do, and he cleaned up the kitchen and found places for scientific things while he waited for the little one. Soon, the detective came out wearing dinosaur pajama pants and an elephant shirt. John chuckled softly, having to admit defeat in his mind, this was actually really cute. "Good morning 'Bee," He mumbled, and Sherlock blushed, sitting down. "G'morning," He mumbled, picking at his food. John sat down, and he looked over, pointedly tapping his plate. "Eat," He instructed, and Sherlock easily complied to this demand, nomming up the eggs and bacon and toast, as well as the tea. John grinned at him. "Good boy," He praised, starting to eat as well. When they were both done, Sherlock was put to work on the dishes as John opened up his laptop. When Sherlock came over, John patted the seat beside him of the sofa, and together, they looked through DDLB things. Little care kits, guides, apparel, and it wasn't long until John mistakenly looked up collars, to which Sherlock explained why they were so big. John accepted and apologized, and they bought it all. With Mycroft's card, of course.


End file.
